


Five Count

by bookwyrmling



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwyrmling/pseuds/bookwyrmling
Summary: “Kent Parson, what do you think you’re doing?!”“Strip Story Time?” Kent asked as he continued to inch Bitty’s shorts down past his calves until Bitty tucked his heels under his thighs, pulling them out of reach.





	Five Count

**Author's Note:**

  * For [embyrr922](https://archiveofourown.org/users/embyrr922/gifts).



> embyrr922 prompted: Kent teasing drunk Bitty for using so many endearments because his boyfriend is adorable when he’s faux-indignant.
> 
> Check Please and its characters belong to Ngozi Ukazu.

“…and then Kelly said—Lord, bless her heart…Kent, what are you doing, sweetheart?”

Kent looked up from where he was pulling at Bitty’s shorts with a far too innocent expression.  Bitty raised an eyebrow at him, demanding an answer, one finger tapping impatiently at his wine glass, and Kent only grinned before ripping his shorts down to his knees.

“Kent!” Bitty yelped, barely keeping his wine from spilling all over himself and the couch, though some did slosh over the rim and into his hand, which Bitty was quick to slurp up.  “Kent Parson, what do you think you’re doing?!”

“Strip Story Time?” Kent asked as he continued to inch Bitty’s shorts down past his calves until Bitty tucked his heels under his thighs, pulling them out of reach.

“You mind sharing that one with the class?” Bitty asked, tucking his feet further under his thighs even as Kent tried to grab hold of them—“Kent, honey, seriously, I’m gonna spill my wine all over the both of us if you keep doing that.”

Kent grinned as he rested his chin on Bitty’s naked thighs, looked up at him and explained, “Whenever you’re drunk and say a bless their heart, you lose a piece of clothing.”

“I what?!”

“I originally wanted to do it for any sweetheart or honey or sweetpea or whatever, too,” he continued, “but there are so many when you’re drunk, the game wouldn’t even last a full minute.”

Bitty’s face, already flushed from being on his third glass of wine, grew even darker as he spluttered, raising up a bit onto his knees like some bird puffing its feathers to appear larger and Kent buried his face in Bitty’s thighs and laughed even as Bitty smacked at his shaking shoulders.

“I seem to recall you enjoying all those sweethearts and honeys and sweetpeas,” Bitty pointed out with a harrumph, ignoring the feeling of Kent slipping his fingers underneath his Aces tee and running against the skin along the edge of his briefs.

“I love the sweethearts,” Kent confirmed, “I swoon for the sweetpeas.” He kissed at Bitty’s left thigh, right above his knee. “I melt over every honey.” He paused to chuckle before looking back up at Bitty’s put-out pout and asked, “But have you ever heard yourself drunk? They’re, like, every other word. Your accent gets so much stronger, too.” Bitty’s face couldn’t get even more red, but Kent could still see the growing embarrassment in the way he jutted his jaw out and pursed his lips. He pressed his teeth into Bitty’s thigh just enough to be a noticeable pressure to keep himself from laughing too hard again.

“Stop that! You know I hate my accent,” Bitty groused, pushing at Kent’s head to force him away.

“I love your accent,” Kent stated, shrugging off Bitty’s hand to reach in to where his hands had lifted his shirt and nip at his stomach, “It’s sexy.”

“Okay, now you’re just pulling my leg, because there is no way sounding like a hick is sexy.”

Kent smirked, his hands slipping down below Bitty’s thighs to grab his ankles and pull his feet back out from underneath—sending his inebriated boyfriend squawking for balance and in protection of his drink once more.  “Yeah, guess I am,” he winked before kissing the inside of one of Bitty’s ankles and resting it on his shoulders as his fingers slipped up to grab his shorts once more. “And you’re still wearing one clothing item too many.”

“There is no way I’ve said bless anyone’s heart three times already,” Bitty argued, reaching down to grab the waistband of his shorts with his empty hand.

Kent scoffed, tugged the shorts down further, and said, “I’m going to have to record you the next time you’re drunk and prove it to you.”

“Noooooo,” Bitty whined.

“Why? Afraid I’ll prove you wrong?” Kent grinned, tugging hard enough to pull the shorts out of Bitty’s grasp and the rest of the way off his legs, letting them fall to the pile already on the ground including Bitty’s socks Kent had removed earlier without Bitty even noticing. “Besides, you listen to your voice all the time with your blogs.”

“That’s different!” Bitty argued, pressing his toes into Kent’s shoulder.

“How is it different?”

“I have a script! And I can practice so my accent isn’t as strong’s how.”

Kent grinned and ran his hand up Bitty’s leg, from his ankle to his knee. “Yeah,” he decided, “Definitely going to record you drunk some time.”

“Kent Parson! You, mister, are rude.”

“Yeah?” he shrugged, “And you have five seconds to finish that wine or wear it.”

“Wha-?” Bitty asked, but rather than answer, Kent began to count.

“Five.”

Kent kissed Bitty’s ankle.

“Four.”

He moved along a bit further and kissed the inside of his calf.

Bitty’s eyes widened and he downed the last of his wine while Kent worked his way up to Bitty’s knee with counts three and two, but the moment he placed the empty glass on the coffee table, Kent’s firm hands gripped the back of his knees and pulled him down the couch until he was looking straight up into Kent’s mischievious smirk.

“One,” Kent finished his countdown before leaning down to kiss his boyfriend properly.

Bitty forgot to argue after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from Tumblr. Hit me up over there at rushingsnowy.


End file.
